Sin
by Trench Kamen
Summary: Very short three-shot nonsensical first-person character analysis. Written after completion of Angels and Demons. Analyzes Camerlengo Ventresca, Maximilian Kohler, and Vittoria Vetra. Huge spoilers for Angels and Demons. Complete.
1. I Ventresca

**Sin**

This was started the morning after I completed reading _Angels and Demons_ by Dan Brown—not five minutes after I had completed the novel and was sitting in bed in a daze. The story is powerful. The characters are powerful. I have always been enchanted by the esoteric and the ever-raging war between science and religion. Had I lived in past Rome, I would have been firmly on the side of the Illuminati, as such is my nature, though this book resurrected my doubts against the pure mechanical universe theory. I am such a melancholy sap.

WARNING: This is one huge spoiler for the end of _Angels and Demons._ Do not read if you want to complete the book. Trust me, completing the book is well worth it.

This is rambling from the point of view of three characters, without any real plot or any point. Originally, this was only going to be a one-shot about Ventresca, my opposite but for whom I felt pity. If there is justice, he will be all right, wherever he is. All he wanted to do was to save the world. I decided to add chapters for Kohler and Vittoria, both of whom with which I sympathize.

This entire thing was written in one afternoon. Talk about a slap-job.

_Angels and Demons_ and all of the characters therein are copyright Dan Brown. I disclaim ownership of any of them. 

**I. Ventresca**

_Hail Mary, full of grace, the lord is with you._

I am a martyr.

This is hell on earth. This is hell. Earth. The earth I am leaving. I am going home. Home, Father.

Father.

Father, cruel joke, deceit. You kept your promise to God at what price? To toy with the very tools of science that make men think themselves God. You allowed man to play God to create _me_, Father. Me, an abomination before god. I am a demon.

I am a demon, praying to angels. Help me.

Help the world. I am only a demon who wants to save the world. I am only a man born from evil. My conception is the very essence of the Devil I work to eradicate in the hearts of Man, oh, cruel irony! Help me, for You are so gracious and virtuous a God as to choose a spawn of abomination as Your voice. You work through demons; You show that even the product of Satan's hands can become holy through Your light.

I am a cursed being, and yet You have made me whole. 

If this is destiny, o Lord, if this is Your way of showing the world that demons sprung from science are forever cursed by the Devil's hand, let the entire world know right now the true nature of my origin. Let them know somehow.

But do not tell them of my deceit. For their sake, o Lord, never let the world know. Sometimes an illusion is needed to represent what the heart knows already. To those who rely on worldly senses, let my canvas remain intact to glorify You.

_The Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb._

I am a horrible mockery of Mary's conception. Immaculate, hardly. Not by the flesh of man but by the hand of the Devil himself so I am conceived. Is that my purpose? Opposite of Jesus, opposite of Your son? Am I so cursed?

And yet You save me. And yet You work through me, praise! I raise my hands to You in Heaven, o God, so forgotten in this world, being rendered obsolete! Never, never shall it happen! 

I have committed murder. I have tortured innocent and devoted souls to Your cause, misguided as they were, I have defiled the earthly relics to Your greatness, and yet You will still accept me. I am still Your son first and foremost, o Lord! Praise be!

The people below are so silent. I can no longer hear their singing. I hear the very fires of Hell.

Is this my earthly punishment for my nature? Is this the way You intend demons to exit the world? By my own hand, driven by Your guidance, is my death an example? After I endure, I hold faith that into Your arms I will travel. I am finally coming home.

_Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death._

I am a sinner. But aren't we all?

_Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death._

For we have all fallen short of your glory, we all deserve to burn. 

_Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death._

I may be a beacon of Hell, but after my suffering I will rise again, like Your Son. Though unlike Him I am demon in flesh. He is divine. Twin stars, twin souls, both born from virgins, one touched by Your hand, the other touched by the hand of Satan. 

The Satan that lives in the hearts of Man. Doubt. Reason. Holy Mary, save them all.

_Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death._

I do not dare to compare myself to Your Son, never! I am not worthy! O Lord, I am not worthy! My suffering pales in comparison to His! While He is immaculate I am awash in sin! I am an earthly, sinful, flawed man. Demon. 

I am a demon living among angels.

And yet You will save me. And yet You work through me. Hail Mary, Mother of God!

I am a liar. I am awash in deceit. I am no different from him. My earthly father. He from whose seed I am begotten, aided by the Devil's hand. O, were it that he only surrendered to the desires of the flesh, but no! This cruel mockery!

I have made mockery of my Church. I have defiled our mission of mercy by murdering its own servants, gentle souls all! And yet it is for Your good. We must progress with the times. Vatican City may fall, earthly ruins sacrificed, but Your spirit remains! I have reawakened it!

Do not let it come undone. The tape… celluloid that could destroy the world. The end of faith. The end of the church. The Church is dying.

I am a disgrace. Lord, what have I done?

_Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death._

I only wanted to save the world.

_Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death._

No, my works were in good intention! The _preferiti _now rest in your arms, Praise God! They have gone to their reward! Certainly, they will understand. Certainly, they will be honored. Certainly, they will be proud of what I have done.

How could they be so blind not to?

I am the Horror. The Hope is theirs. 

The Hope is the world's. This is my punishment. This pain is the Horror. I am the Horror. I am pain.

I am in so much pain, Hell's fire on earth, o Lord!

Jesus endured more for my sins. For his endurance I can rise to heaven, demon-spawned and sinful as I am. I am red with sin. I am black with sin.

Black… father's tongue. Father, what have you done?

Father, did you save the world? Did your sin result in such pain in God that I am to counteract?

And the sins of the father shall be inflicted on the child.

I am holy penance; I pay for your sins. I am an effigy on the stake.

I am an effigy, burning at the stake.

For the world, my Horror, the effigy, take my gift of faith and be alive!

And my sins shall be white as snow. And his sins shall be white as snow. The world, someday, will be white as snow.

So many lost souls that will forever paint themselves black. They turn their backs on Your glory. They turn away from the holy fountain of Jesus' blood that will wash them white as snow. That blood is so powerful that even demons can become angels.

I will become an angel.

The world is black with sin. Mary, help us!

_Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death._

They are no longer singing in the square. It is so quiet.

I can no longer even hear Hell's fire.

I'm coming home, Lord! I'm coming home!

_Amen._


	2. II Kohler

**II. Kohler**

_There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy._

Because they have not been discovered. They have not been proven.

_There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy._

The sun was once thought to be a god in a chariot of fire, but we have proven the sun to be plasma, its movement to be the result of gravity. To the people of old, to prove the sun's true nature was impossible. The same sort of fools believe that we cannot prove the origins of the universe. The origins of human consciousness.

The world is full of fools, blinded by illusions. Blinded by emotions. In desperate need to fill voids, they weave fairytales and silence any who challenge their fallacies. The fairytales are taboo. They live their lives according to fantasy.

The world refuses to see reality.

_There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy._

That will not save a boy in suffering? The suffering is only alleviated by earthly medicine and those with 'faith' turn blind eyes to its effects, saying it is god. Saying that its inherent fallacies are the result of divine intervention.

Would a divine spirit really make something half effective if it had any compassion? If this is really 'god', he is a tyrant.

If medicine is the hand of God, let science be proclaimed the new God. Let there be light.

Let there be light. Let there be illumination.

Illuminati.

What fool resurrects a dead legend, fabricates its existence, and plays its terrorism to the masses as a puppet show? What fool makes a puppet of the masses, dangling them in front of a shadowy stage and saying 'look only at our story'? 'Look at who is bad?'

A smart fool. A damned smart fool. For people are prone to hysteria. For people believe what they see and weave mystical fairy-tales about its occurrence. Humans inherently want to understand. Humans turn their back on the only true understanding there is.

Humans refuse to see reality. Reality is cold. Reality is not benevolent. Reality does not see that justice is distributed to the righteous.

Reality does not care for a suffering little boy. Reality does not care for a suffering man. Only concrete reality manipulated to take a course—medicine in a bloodstream, cells and compounds, protons, ions—will change an effect. The effect is only determined 'good' or 'bad' by the epiphenomenon of human consciousness.

I wish that I could believe in miracles. 

The Church is in its last days. How pathetic is a church that must weave an illusion show, fabricate a huge lie, just to keep the faith? Just to undermine science? In the childish way of storytelling that marks bad guys as 'evil' and good guys as 'pure' with no gray area… Yes, that is the way that he must communicate to the masses. The ignorant masses. The masses looking for answers.

It is such a black-and-white picture. People are so very simple.

This is my last night alive, though when I die it will matter nothing to me. If in death my questions be answered, so be it. Though I do not expect anything. The dead care nothing.

And if I truly be hell-bound for refusing to blind myself with faith to the discoveries of the real world, let me fall into hell with eyes unclouded.

Yes, I was crippled because there was not enough faith. There was not enough faith in reality.

Religion is opiate: let it be so. Let the masses drug themselves into illusions of benevolent spirits and angels. Let the masses see demons in those who stand on reason.

Let the masses call 'demon' at those who stand by the truth. Let the masses call 'demon' at those who shatter illusions.

Illusions truly harm. Faith in illusions has paralyzed me.

But illusions do help. Benevolence, kindness toward fellow man, are these so bad? No. But are humans so fragile as to need religion to tell them to be this way?

Humans want answers. The playtime is over. The answers given are becoming less and less fantastic.

And I offer myself as a martyr of truth, walking myself to the stake to challenge the executioner. We will go down together.

God damn it, even if I don't walk, I'll go down standing. I will go down standing.

The helicopter is approaching the Vatican. Lights, hysterical crowds, screaming. Media vultures. Disgusting.

The irony that I will find peace at last in a church, of all places. The very church that has rendered my life a hell. The blind faith preached by this institution has forbidden search for truth in anything not mandated.

The church is so weak that they must forbid questioning, for any questioning will prove them wrong. Can the masses not see this? Can the masses not see that they are being played as fools? Can they not see the madness of the Inquisition? The smear campaigns against science, the fear? Is this an attempt to restart the Inquisition? Ah, yes, history does not repeat itself, but it rhymes.

Let us revel in the tragic refrain. Let there be dark.

Science is the church's ultimate enemy, for the truth will rob the church of its power.

The church is lies.

The only sin in this world is turning one's back on reason. The Vatican is sin.

And the church will lead the sheep into the valley of the shadow of death, for they are all walking blind. They will all fall in this sin. And yet I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for my reason art with me.

The helicopter is landing.

_There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy._

Only because they have not been proven. 

My only regret is that I will not remain alive long enough to see all of the lies proven for what they are.

Let there be light.


	3. III Vittoria

**III. Vittoria**

_Illusionary joy is often worth more than genuine sorrow._

But at the cost of the lives of how many? At what cost to science? To see these illusions, a mockery of the church's doctrine… to reveal the truth would cripple the church. The faith would be forever gone. What the hell was that bastard thinking?

I don't care what he was thinking. My father was murdered by his hand.

The harmless, innocent cardinals, all tortured and maimed. They, the pure in a cruel and malicious world, must be the virgin sacrifices. There is no justice.

If there is a God, I will never come to understand his ways. There are some things that mathematics and machines will never decipher. Unconscious machines, unable to decipher consciousness—sure, images of electric impulses within a brain, but to understand the substance of the thought? Until a ghost inhabits the shell of a machine there will be no definite proof of anything, and that ghost would be just as lost as any soul.

Feeling is the only validation of some things. But this is madness.

Max, why could you not come to understand that there are some things you cannot prove with concrete methods? Is your mind so closed and mundane to reject the esoteric? 

I mourn your death now. Oh, poor, foolish Max, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You, indulging in the emotions that you so condemn as myth, you having a sense of justice, something foolish and irrational—in the end you died as human as any of us. I think you know this. You must have understood.

Ventresca…  you bastard. I loathe you and yet I pity you. Pointless feelings of loss, vendetta, hatred—yes, you stole my father from me—but you meant well. I still cannot bring myself to forgive you.

In that, God is far stronger than I. Let him be the one to bestow forgiveness.

Seeking the same goal as my father, to get closer to god, to understand—and when he approaches the truth you murder him. You fool. You truly are a fool.

Fools change the world, for they know not what is impossible.

Can you not see that 'God' exists in all things? 'God' doesn't have to be your image of an old man throwing souls into hell, as I told you before you took your own life. The spirit, perhaps the source of consciousness itself, the miracle—what if it is some omnipotent being, the very thread that binds particles? Something that is larger than all of us, what connects us? Are you only secure so long as 'God' is your Church's idea of a God, and to hell with all else?

Only fools close their eyes to what is in front of them. Max, Ventresca, you are both guilty. You are both fools.

I think that 'God' is merely that—consciousness, the common thread that binds. Cardinal in quantum theory, the very evidence of which manifests daily, overloading and confusing the very most advanced of equipment. Only the human mind can comprehend the meaning. It is self evident. All things are self-evident.

Science will be overthrown by pure reason.

If there is a 'God' as the church perceives him, I do not know why he turned his back on a brilliant man whose gifts were entirely spent on glorification of the spirit.

Father…

Father, you would tell me to have faith. You would show me a brilliant bridge between our concrete realities and the divine. You would further close the gap between reason and feeling, to become one—'heart and mind'—as already occurs in many languages. Yes, in Japanese 'kokoro' means both the heart and the mind.

Humans are innately aware that both are interconnected. It is western arrogance and blindness that has lead humans to separate them and create war between their advocates.

Father, you understood that 'God' is in all things. Then why were you faithful to a religion that advocated only blind faith to one interpretation, rationalized only by storybooks?

I will never understand the universe. That truly takes a power far greater than us. 

Perhaps that is the origin of religion. The search for answers, a frantic need for understanding, the wish that there is an omnipotent consciousness that understands existence.

Humans empathize because they feel the void in the soul that comes from separation from the full sphere of consciousness. There is interconnection. This cannot be proven, but I know it is true.

I think, therefore I am. Of nothing else I am certain.

Descartes, haunting me once again. I am busy with another man right now. He is still sleeping, exhausted from a great deal of demanding activities. Sins of the flesh, the desperate act of loneliness, the merger of souls through a bridge of matter. Connected matter, connected impulses, the soul being connected without this act—and yet, so primal. That's all it's good for. It's primal and desperate.

Robert, I'm sorry. 

I'm sorry for dragging you this far, but for what selfish desire I have, I am glad that I was able to meet you, if only for a short while.

I do not know how long we will be together, but we both know that it won't be forever. The brightest-burning candle extinguishes the quickest. When smoke is all that remains the memory of the steam will forever grace our hearts.

Urgh, corny. Cursed be these feminine hormones. Virgin, were you? You're a bit old to be a virgin, Robert, darling. Ah, I'm laughing. Dammit. Don't wake up. I don't want to have to explain myself. How such a brilliant man as yourself could not have women lining up at your bedside makes little sense to me.

Ah, yes, but I am one of the rare few attracted to the mind, not the size of anything… physical. The world is crazy.

The dichotomy between mind and heart is an illusion, for why else would I feel attraction to you? I admired Kohler and felt no lust for him, I could draw clear distinction between the sort of love I feel for my father and the sort of love I feel for you—ah, the mind's discourse. Rambling nonsense.

Closer to god in a moment of clarity. 

God, a being about which illusions are painted to simplify its existence, an allegory for something on high painted in frescos and Bibles. The allegory is a tool of manipulation. Let the people fear illusions about something they feel to be confirmed in its most basic faculty—that it exists.

That there is something beyond ourselves. That something _is_ ourselves.

God is in everything. Humans war over how its allegory is painted on concrete mediums. War on how it must be represented. War on how to dumb it down.

Humans are morons. Yet, I still have hope for the human race.

Sin—to the church, this is sin. Succumbing to feelings, to revel in emotions. Feelings are sin, to regard divine anything that is not sterile and confirming of doctrine is sin. To reason, to question divinity in a deity not in their image…

To attempt to merge science in religion, a marriage that would defame the power of the church as ultimate authority? Is wrecking insecurity on the church sin?

If this is sin, let me fall into hell with the sinners. Heaven would be an alternate hell.


End file.
